


When a Sparkling Comes of Age

by Cyberra, gatekat



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Field Sex, First Time, Knights of Light, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Plug and Play, Size Kink, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex, Tactile, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberra/pseuds/Cyberra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knights of Light.  Axe/Dai Atlas/Wing<br/>1 new mechling.  2 creators.  3 very long orns.  7 methods of interface.<br/>Being overly cautious on the warning. He's of age to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When a Sparkling Comes of Age

Dai Atlas stood in the main medical bay, arms crossed over his chest and one wing twitching, looking over toward the room where his sparkling, Wing, was getting his mechling upgrades. The little jetling was growing up, too fast for the big triple changer's peace of mind.

"They always grow up too fast," Axe leaned against his larger mate. "He's going to be such a spark-breaker and wanted berth warmer."

The larger mech rumbled, his plating vibrating. "That's what worries me."

"He'll enjoy it and you know it," Axe leaned in a little harder. "You know no one is going to hurt him."

"I also know how impulsive Wing is," Dai Atlas replied. "He's already got half a dozen other Knights willing to get into his berth."

"Nothing wrong with that, lover," Axe caught his hand and squeezed it. "Wing may be impulsive, but he's never done anything he knows is dangerous. If he ends up with a newspark or damaged, we failed. We are not going to fail."

A deep ex-vent was the reply as the Sovereign of Light leaned against his mate. Silence reigned for a long moment before the blue mech spoke again. "We will have to make sure he knows the risks."

"We will," Axe smiled slightly. "Besides, can you imagine any of the Knights risking your wrath by hurting him? You're the scariest carrier in history."

"You do have a point," the larger mech admitted, managing a chuckle. It actually had been funny, in hindsight, to see other Knights scuttling out of his way like turbo-chicks spotting a crystal viper. No one had wanted to come anywhere near him until several decaorns after Wing had separated and it was clear that getting his flight-frame back had settled his already-infamous temper.

"Now, I want to show him the fun of 'facing by the mecha-koi ponds," Axe grinned up, already knowing how well _that_ was going to go over. "He might as well get used to being out in the open with a frame like his. You know he'll do it in the air often enough."

Wide white wings flared, red optics turning to stare down at his mate. "You want to _what_?" The last part of the question was almost a sputter.

"I intend for his first time to be by the koi ponds," Axe repeated. "It's utterly romantic and beautiful."

"It's in the _open_ , where _everybody_ can see," Dai Atlas retorted, forcing his wings to fold again.

"And what you did to court and bond with me wasn't?" Axe grinned up unrepentantly. "When did you become such a prude?"

"That was _intended_ to be seen," Dai Atlas replied, wings twitching. "To make sure everyone knew you were _mine_. But the first interface... That, in my experience, should be a private thing. My first time was in my mentor's quarters, just he and I."

"Huh," Axe cocked his helm. "Mine was in an open officer's barracks so I could experience several mecha under my trainer's watch once he'd shown me the basics."

"Eventually I did experience different mecha, but my first time was private." The big mech's plating twitched briefly as he unburied those old memories briefly. "I will take Wing in our quarters."

Axe nodded his acceptance. "I figured you would, and that'll be good for him too. At least Redline already installed the smaller interface equipment for us. Not even your patience could prep him to take your real spike."

"Not in his mechling frame. The size difference would be just too great." The blue triple changer nodded. He recalled Redline's pointing that out to both of them a metacycle before Wing was scheduled to be upgraded.

"Even with mine to loosen him up first," Axe chuckled, optics on their youngest creation as Redline installed the largest new component of the mechling frame: the penetrative interface unit. "Do you want me to leave anything untouched, for you to be first?"

"Spark," his larger mate answered firmly. Wide wings flared once and folded again.

"Sure," Axe smiled and rubbed against him affectionately and soothingly. "I'll make sure he's looking forward to it too."

Dai Atlas rumbled softly, wrapping an arm around his mate and holding him close as they watched Redline working on their sparkling.

* * *

Wing bounced slightly as he walked, or trotted, alongside his sire, still getting used to the upgrades. New parts always felt odd for a couple of orns after they were installed, and newly uploaded protocols made his processor itch for about the same length of time. He hadn't missed the looks he was getting from some of the other Knights, but Axe had requested that Wing accompany him, and the young jetling had agreed, always willing to spend time with his creators.

He could feel it in the black Knight's field that this was a serious walk, but there was excitement in Axe too.

"How are your upgrades settling in?" Axe asked as they walked through one of the smaller meditation gardens.

"Settling well, with the usual amount of odd sensations," the smaller mech replied, ruffling his now-longer wings. "Upgrades always feel weird for an orn or so."

"Especially ones as intensive as mechling," Axe nodded, his stride smooth but shortened out of courtesy of his company. "No other upgrades are as altering to the basic frame and protocol structure. Not even when you got your wings and flight protocols as a youngling, though I understand it is close."

"That time the joy of finally having wings and being able to get off the ground canceled out the oddness," Wing replied, flaring one and brushing its tip against his sire's dark armor. His bright optics took in the garden, the elegant crystal trees gleaming as light reflected off their surfaces.

"Are you looking forward to the new pleasures of this upgrade?" Axe smiled down, his field brushing gently against his creation's.

"I've been hearing so much about this particular upgrade... I'm looking forward to seeing if any of what I've heard is true." Thin, short white wings fluttered out of their V tuck with anticipation, the young jetling bouncing again.

Axe chuckled. "If you have a good lover, it definitely is all that and better. Which is why it's tradition for your family to be the ones to introduce you to the various kinds of interfacing, how to do it properly, safely and what to do if something doesn't go well or you're damaged."

White audial fins flared out as Wing blinked up at his dark-plated sire. "You're going to teach me?"

"Your carrier wishes to teach you of spark play and will cover fields as well, I plan to cover tactile, penetrative and hardline methods," Axe said easily as he found an empty bench in a relatively secluded corner of the mecha-koi garden. "I know Redline gave you the safety download. You're going to hear it again from both of us."

Wing bounced over to sit next to him, gazing briefly into the nearest pond at the mecha creatures gliding about in the fine oil. A couple noticed and came over to investigate, peering up at him. He chirped at them, then turned his attention to his sire, golden optics bright and curious.

With a smile Axe collected his creation into his lap and stroked his back, a single finger down the main strut between his wings. "The first thing to remember is that it will not be all today. It is a minimum of seven overloads. That is too many in a single orn."

A soft chirr escaped Wing as he leaned into the touch, blinking up at the older mech. "It is?"

Axe laughed deeply in good humor as his touch continued. He shifted his hand to rub along Wing's backstrut with a folded finger so two outer ones could slide along the untucked wings. "Yes, my dear mechling, it is. It will wear you out. As you'll soon learn, an overload takes a lot out of you. It's draining. One or two is generally all most mecha are capable of without recharge, or at least a cube of energon."

The young jet purred, leaning into the touches. "I've been told it feels really good, but no one ever said anything about it being draining." His wings loosened even further, tilting into Axe's stroking.

"Because most mecha recharge afterwards," Axe smiled down at him and kept the gentle attention up. "You will get a sense of your own endurance soon. Your frame will let you know when it doesn't want to overload again without more energy. Listen to it. Though generally the worst that will happen is that you drop off line and stay that way. Which is only dangerous if you're in the air."

Wing was almost melting into the touches. He'd always enjoyed being touched, especially by his creators, but this felt better than usual. It was sending tingles through his frame, odd sensations swirling through his sensor net. "I'll wait until I have a better sense of my endurance before attempting anything in the air," he promised, fluttering his pinions. He'd crashed enough to know how much it hurt and how much of a lecture it got him from Redline.

"Good," Axe purred, his field full of approval. "The second thing that is very, very important to remember is to never spark merge with anyone you aren't willing to bond with or carry for right then. There are so many ways we can share pleasure that do not have repercussions. Keep that one for mecha you trust and care for deeply."

Golden optics blinked at that. It took him a klik to drag himself away from the new sensations to register what Axe was saying. "I'll be careful, sire," he replied, leaning against the broad black chestplate.

"Good," Axe purred, his fingers shifting slightly to put caressing pressure on the joints and transformation seams of his creation's slender wings. "Not every spark merge will result in a permanent change in your existence, but it is best to assume so. To kindle or bond as a mechling is extremely dangerous. Your spark and frame are not mature enough to sustain either easily. We don't want to see you hurt that way."

Wing hummed acknowledgement, white armor beginning to fluff out. The touches felt _so_ good, sending heat through his frame. Slender wings trembled slightly at the building sensations.

The big black mech smiled at his creation, his field tuned to teek pleasure. "Touch feels different now."

"Very different," Wing agreed, a sound that was almost a whimper accompanying the words. He pressed into Axe's hand, optics dimming, armor flaring out to vent the heat that had built underneath.

"It's the same touch, but new protocols are interpreting it differently," Axe smiled and continued to stroke Wing's back and wings. "Your wings, sensor and control surfaces will be the most sensitive for this kind of touch, though you will eventually develop preferences that are yours, rather than just your frame's. Those are nothing to shy away from. If it feels good, it's not a bad thing."

The only answer Wing could give was a shuddering moan, his whole frame trembling. One hand clawed lightly at Axe's armor, optics dimming and flickering as the unfamiliar heat swept through him.

"What you're feeling now is sensual pleasure," Axe purred, his interface systems powering up at the pleasure and heat pouring off the mech in his lap. His field entwined more solidly, encouraging Wing's pleasure and his own. "Don't resist what's coming. It's good. Pure pleasure." He rumbled, speaking more so Wing heard his voice than to impart anything.

The jetling's frame shivered all over, a warbling keen escaping as the heat surged through him, sending charge racing through his sensor net. He clutched at his sire's frame, armor rattling, venting hot air from every vent and seam, trembling in the aftermath of his very first overload.

Axe's touch shifted, just a little, from arousing to comforting as he held his creation and cooed until the white bundle of energy in his lap had stilled and calmed. The white mech went almost limp, slumped against his creator's torso, venting heavily. His armor rattled softly as he trembled, struggling to get his proverbial pedes back under him.

"That was an overload, a fairly gentle one," Axe said when he was fairly sure Wing could understand. 

Wing blinked slowly, tilting his helm to look up. "That's what an overload feels like?"

"Yes," Axe continued to stroke his back lightly, keeping the touch platonic.

The black Knight's sparkling considered that. "It felt... Odd. But good-odd."

"It will soon no longer be odd," Axe grinned. "That was tactile, an overload induced by touching."

"I enjoyed that." Wing let his optics dim slightly. "And I see what you mean about it being draining."

A soft smile crossed the black Knight's features and he took a Wing-sized cube of energon from subspace. "Here, my sparkling. Drink."

The way Wing eagerly snatched up and started gulping the cube was a hint that his fuel tanks had been a bit on the low side already. His engines purred softly as he downed the fuel, snuggling into Axe's warm armor.

"That would be why we're spreading out your interface education over a few orns," Axe lifted his hand to stroke Wing's helm lightly. "We want you to know what you're doing when you're turned loose in the city's population. The Knights we trust. The rest, not quite so much."

"Makes sense," the little jet agreed between mouthfuls. Setting the empty cube down, he snuggled closer, curling one arm between his frame and Axe's, ex-venting slowly. Axe continued to stroke him gently, encouraging the youth to fall into recharge that his systems were requesting. There was one more long ex-vent, then Wing's optics powered down completely and his systems quieted down as he settled into recharge. He purred softly even in recharge, latched firmly enough onto Axe that prying him lose would take some effort. The big mech had no desire to though. He was more than content to relax on the bench and watch the mecha-koi swim while his creation recharged soundly in his lap.

* * *

It was a few joors later when Wing finally stirred, his wings twitching against Axe's arm and his optics began warming up. Blinking sleepily, the jet raised his helm to look up at his sire, yawning.

"Welcome to the functioning, my little jetling," Axe's deep voice and warm amusement rolled over Wing with the warmth of the suns most never saw.

Wing chirped in response, rubbing his cheek against Axe's chestplate. He stretched, wings and pinions fluttering, then settled again. "What do we do now?"

"If you are interested, I'll introduce you to your spike," Axe smiled, his field reinforcing that it didn't need to be now.

White audial fins flared out as Wing considered that for a moment. The earlier overload had felt good, and he was eager to learn and experience more. Chirring, he nodded his agreement, sitting up on Axe's lap.

The black mech nodded and embraced Wing's back, giving him support while his free hand slid down the mechling's frame to caress over the spike cover, giving it a single gentle circle.

It took the little jetling a klik of hunting through his new protocols to find the commands to open his spike cover. Bright optics watched his sire's fingers with interest, a purr escaping from his vocalizer.

"Let it extend and pressurize on its own, not by command," Axe instructed him with a rumble, tracing his finger lightly around the housing. "Penetrative interfacing is the most common, requires the least skill and is often the fastest way to overload."

Wing tried to reply, but the words were lost in a moaning sound. He clutched at Axe's plating, glad of the arm supporting him. Otherwise he was sure he would have fallen right off his sire's lap.

"That's right, my lad," Axe purred, circling the housing once more. "Relax into the pleasure. It's a wonderful thing to have and to share."

The white mech purr-moaned as his spike twitched in its housing, slowly beginning to extend and pressurize. He stared down at it, momentarily distracted by the odd sensation, his wings and pinions twitching as he watched Axe's large black fingers continue to circle and stroke, lighting up sensors for the first time. When the head was fully visible, Axe swiped his thumb over the softer metal, feeling the sensor nodes and slit before sliding around the emerging shaft.

Wing's entire frame _twitched_ at that, making an odd sound. His hips bucked slightly, involuntarily, into the black mech's hand. The small jet's wings were almost vibrating against his back as his spike continued to extend, pressurizing all the way out of its housing. He was a bit aware of the heat rising from Axe's frame, but it was still cool compared to his own.

The large black hand curled around the shaft and rubbed slowly, gliding along in short strokes that caressed the entire length.

Wing let out a whimpering moan, his hips squirming into the touch. It felt good, so good. The same heat he'd felt before his first overload was building under his armor, even more quickly than the first time. His sire continued to stroke his spike, gradually speeding up while he provided all the support his creation needed to remain steady.

The white mech's jaw worked, but he was unable to form words. His optics were wide but not quite seeing, still fixed on the large dark hand working his spike. A soft mewling sound escaped as his hips bucked again, his field pulsing a bit erratically against his sire's. Axe pulsed his field in return, encouraging him without adding much to Wing's charge.

"Don't be startled by what comes out of your spike," Axe rumbled. "It's normal."

Another shudder rattled the jetling's armor as the rising charge crashed over him. Silvery transfluid burst from his spike, covering Axe's hand. Wing let out a surprised yip, staring, but otherwise barely moved as energy raced through his systems. He trusted his sire to keep him from falling.

He was still gasping, his armor flaring and contracting to aid the forcing of air through his systems to cool him off when he came back to his senses enough to see and comprehend what was going on again.

Hazy gold optics blinked and flickered, finally managing to focus on Axe's face. A white wing twitched slightly, drooping from its tuck. It took Wing a klik or two to regain coherence, looking at the silver fluid covering his sire's armor. "What...?"

"Transfluid," Axe chuckled, taking a cloth from subspace to clean up with. "The normal result of a spike overload. It and valve lubricant is why this method is often called sticky or squishy as slang."

"Ahh." Wing nodded slowly. He'd heard those terms a few times but had never really understood. Lifting a hand, he poked a curious finger at the transfluid on Axe's armor.

"It's safe," the big mecha laughed easily. "A common way of inducing a spike overload is in the oral cavity. Most mecha swallow it."

That got Axe a dubious look for a moment. Wing eyed the silvery stuff on his fingertip, then cautiously lifted his hand and placed his finger in his mouth, his expression that of someone who's not sure they're going to like the result. It was almost tasteless, with only metallic hints and a heavy charge. Mostly it was a texture. Gooey and slippery.

"It can be an acquired taste," Axe chuckled. "Every mecha tastes a bit different, even if it doesn't taste like much to you now."

Wing made a slight face. "I'll take your word for that... It will take some getting used to." He watched his creator wiping off the last of the transfluid, white armor settling back into place. His spike gradually receded into his housing.

"Experience will see to that," Axe smiled warmly and pulled a cube of energon out for his creation, offering it silently.

The young mech accepted the cube, sipping it rather than gulping it down as he had the first time. The overload had still been draining, but it hadn't been as bad the second time. Maybe because his tanks had already been full. Humming softly, Wing turned that over in his processor as he drank.

Finishing his energon, Wing set the empty cube aside, chirping softly as one of the mecha-koi in the pond came over to investigate. Shifting on Axe's lap, he looked up to meet his sire's blue optics. "What now?"

"If you're up to it, you can feel what a big spike in your valve feels like," Axe rumbled, truly eager. "There's no need to hurry through these, though."

"I want to learn," Wing replied firmly, sitting up on his sire's lap and leaning against dark armor. His optics, when he looked up, were bright and interested. "I'm ready."

"You were kindled ready," Axe chuckled, stroking his creation's back. "Lay back on the bench," he said, scooting to the end.

Wing chirred, his wings fluttering behind him as he did so, laying on his back. One wingtip hit the forgotten empty cube, knocking it into the koi pond. It immediately started bobbing across the surface as the mecha-koi came over to investigate. The white jet ignored it, all his attention on his sire as Axe shifted to straddle the bench. He watched large black hands, each able to encircle his waist, though it was a near thing now, smoothed over his hips, caressing the armor and cables he could reach. The thumbs slid inward, roaming along much more sensitive metal.

"Same as before, don't try to trigger anything, but let it happen," Axe rumbled, excitement clear in his harmonics.

Wing nodded, letting out a chirp of agreement. That chirp became a purr as black thumbs stroked over sensitive metal, sending tingles through the white jet's frame. Tingles became zaps of pleasure and a deep moan before it slid open smoothly. Axe rumbled and slid his thumbs further inward, stroking the outer rim of platelets.

That touch got a choked sound from the white mech. He hadn't expected that area to be so _sensitive_. He squirmed against Axe's hands, trying to press closer. White wings flared out to their full span, tips quivering. Axe stroked him again, a little further in.

It generated another choked sound and a whine of pleasure. White armor fluffed and rattled as Wing trembled, trying to scoot closer to the larger mech. He could feel something starting to ooze around the edges of those platelets, but figured it was a normal reaction. His hands pawed at the smooth surface of the bench, his optics fixed on Axe's hands, as much of them as he could see at that angle. It gave him a perfect view of his sire's spike beginning to slide out and pressurize as the thumbs moved deeper into his platelets, rubbing as much as stroking.

Wing only managed to hold relatively still through sheer force of will, though his control was fraying. His optics were wide, fixed on what he could see, his frame twitching and squirming against the berth. It felt so good, better than he'd imagined it might. One hand moved away, just a bit, but before the whine of protest could be voiced Axe slid his finger between the platelets to rub around the valve's outer ring, then inside it.

The jetling's valve was dripping with lubricant. Wing's voice hit an interesting pitch, his back arching ever so slightly as he pressed into the touch. His armor fluffed, hot air shimmering over his plating, wings wiggling so rapidly the tips blurred. Slowly Axe moved his finger in and out, stroking and stretching to ensure his creation wasn't damaged by his spike. Though it was noticeably smaller than his usual one, it was still sizeable for a mecha as small as Wing to take in. He was focused on Wing's field, intent on causing only pleasure.

Wing tried to say something, but all that came out were odd sounds, so he finally gave up. His field pulsed wildly against Axe's, but there was no discomfort in it. The black mech's touch felt good, very good, and the white mech's field expressed as much.

With a shudder of anticipation Axe withdrew his finger and leaned forward, covering his creation completely. One hand reached down to brace on the ground while the other caught Wing's hip to hold him steady. Wing was venting hot air from every vent and armor seam, trying his best to hold still. Bright, wide gold optics watched every move his sire made, one trembling hand lifting to stroke over black armor. Axe drew in a steadying intake and pressed forward, sinking the tip of his new spike into Wing's valve, feeling it stretch easily around him, enveloping him in the blissful tightness and slick heat of a ready and eager lover.

It had been so long since he'd been with anyone besides his mate.

At the sensation of a spike easing into his valve, the white jet's optics went perfectly round, a squeak emerging from his vocalizer. There was the tiniest flicker of discomfort, then it was swamped by the pleasure of having so many sensors stimulated at once in a way new protocols told him was blissful. It didn't matter how odd it was to have another inside him. It felt _amazing_.

"Primus, you're tight," Axe gasped, shuddering as the pleasure and charge raced through him. "Feels so good."

Whining his agreement, Wing clawed lightly at his sire's ebony chestplates, one leg automatically curling around the larger mech's hip. Managing to scrape up at least some processor power, he experimentally shifted the calipers in his valve, shivering at the resulting sensations, then again at the pleasure that roared in his sire's field.

Axe panted as he stilled, finally seated fully inside his creation. Slowly, with a deep groan, he began to pull out. It was taking everything he had not to overload and spill into the incredible tightness around him, but he managed.

The white mech whined slightly as Axe pulled out, audial fins flaring out and then folding tight to his helm. Finding the edge of one of Axe's armor plates, Wing latched onto it, clinging to black plating. He keened, high and sharp, when that incredible fullness returned with a roll of Axe's hips forward. The slide of becoming empty, then full in a maddening cycle that had Axe panting and trembling above him.

Both hands hooked into and latched onto Axe's dark armor, Wing twitching and moaning under his creator. Charge was building fast. The overload would not be long in coming. Not for either of them. The intensity of the slide of fullness soon had Wing right on the edge as his sire thrust into him deeply, pressing the head of his spike against the thick cluster of nodes at the end of Wing's valve.

The roar Axe let loose vibrated the pond oil and made the crystal plants chime with the first burst of hot, thick, charged transfluid burst from him to fill the tight valve he was inside.

Wing's whole frame spasmed, his vocalizer letting out a keening shriek. His valve calipers clamped down on Axe's spike as hard as they could, the young jet's hands tightening on black armor. If he'd been any bigger or stronger his grip would have left dents in the thick plating. Charge roared through him, arcing over his plating and curling through his systems.

They were both locked in the grip of their overloads, the energy feeding off the other's until it was finally used up. Axe's hand dropped from Wing's hip to the ground to support him as he gasped for cooling air, their heat enough to make the pond oil shimmer and drive the forms that could move to get away.

Reluctantly Axe gathered himself enough to pull out of his creation and smiled at the dazed, pleasure-soaked features as Wing worked to collect his processors enough to understand.

It took several kliks for the twitching to stop, and almost a breem for Wing's optics to focus on Axe, albeit a little blearily. The white mech tried to say something, only managing to squeak before something resembling an actual word escaped.

"Mark of a good overload," Axe rumbled, pleased with himself. "The longer the reboot, the stronger it was."

"It was... it was..." Wing resorted to gesturing wildly with his hands, unable to find the right words to describe the experience. Managing to roll over, he crawled over to press against his sire's armor, purring contentedly. Despite his focus, he caught both Alt and Thorn at the edge of polite range, watching but silent and still.

The larger mech embraced him, unconcerned by the lubricant and transfluid pooling on the bench and under it. "I hope it's still amazing when the older youngsters around here get done teaching you their tricks," Axe chuckled. "You can spend the night with one of them, or with us, or in your own room, as you wish."

Wing murmured something Axe couldn't quite make out, crawling into the bigger mech's lap and curling up. Tucking his helm under his sire's chin, he nuzzled drowsily, clinging to black armor.

He chuckled lowly, amusement, affection and pleasure rich in his field as he shifted his creation slightly so he could stand up, Wing in his arms much like when the little stunt jet was a sparkling. "Sorry lads, he's going with me this time."

The two interested Knights simply nodded and wandered away. They'd have their chance eventually. A mechling's first few vorns were notorious for berth-hopping.

* * *

Dai Atlas hummed as he listened to his mate clean up in their private washrack for the orn's duties. His SIC and mate would be pulling double duty today, covering his own as well as Dai Atlas' duties to the Citadel. Dai Atlas' duties to the Order could be handled when Wing was in recharge or put off an orn to see to his creation's needs. The Order's ways were demanding and strict, but not inflexible.

When he felt Wing's systems begin to come on line he carefully flared his field, greeting his creation and speaking as a lover rather than a creator.

Wing's field reached out to brush against his carrier's as the mechling's optics warmed up. Chirring softly, Wing lifted his helm to gaze at his creator, smiling brightly at the blue mech nearly three times his height and many times his mass.

"Did you enjoy what Axe showed you?" Dai Atlas rumbled, watching and feeling through his field as he modulated to match up with Wing's and pulse it into the relaxed white frame to make every circuit tingle.

"It was interesting, educational, and quite enjoyable," the white mech chirped, stretching. A shiver ran through his frame at the touches to his field, and chirr became purr as the young mech sidled over to lean against his carrier.

"This is another way to be intimate," Dai Atlas rumbled, quite willing to encourage his creation to be close with another pulse. "It is possible to induce an overload by manipulating your field. It is generally considered the most difficult method to master, though it is also the most instinctive to use in combination with other forms since teeking is intrinsic to our kind."

Wing blinked, his audial fins flaring out in curious interest. "I've never heard about that method." Another shiver ran through his frame as he draped himself over Dai Atlas' nearer leg.

"It's rarely practiced," Dai Atlas admitted as he modulated his field to light up sensors all the way through Wing's frame, right to his spark chamber. "Of the seven common stimulation points, this is the most difficult to master. It is also one of the two oldest, dating back to before we had frames if legend is to be believed."

The much smaller jetling was purring like a cybercat, his field pulsing back against his carrier's, though his was more erratic and clumsy. "Feels goooooooooood..." He almost flopped across Dai Atlas' lap, armor trembling, his cooling fans whirring to life.

"If you ever wish to learn, I will be happy to teach you," Dai Atlas smiled easily, enjoying the feedback and the loop he created smoothly. The truth was, he still remembered a time before the penetrative systems that are now so favored even existed. Field and hardline and spark came more easily to him than most who learned the physical methods as youths. "Though I do not recommend attempting to do so until your final upgrades."

"I'll probably take you up on that," Wing managed to gasp out, kneading at Dai Atlas' leg without even noticing. His turbines were revving, the tang of jet engine sweeping over both mechs, riding the warm air venting from under white armor.

Another smile, this one slightly more aroused, followed Wing's physical reactions to the field play. Without warning Dai Atlas pushed a heavy burst of his spark energy into his field to flow through his creation, hitting everything at once.

The small jet's frame bucked, hands clamping onto his carrier's leg armor. The sound he let out was something like a wailing keen, or a keening wail, charge crawling over his plating. Sparks leaped off onto Dai Atlas, prickling at his sensor net. The big triple changer hummed and continued to pulse his field, cycling Wing's overload through his much more resilient systems and back into his field, driving the mechling into a processor-blinding sequence of minor overloads that gradually tapered off until Wing was little more than a quivering lump of strutless white attached to a blue leg.

"Showoff," Axe teased him as he came out of the washrack. "Any marks left on me?"

Dai Atlas dutifully looked at his mate as Axe did a slow turn. "You're clean."

Wing could barely even twitch, completely limp over his carrier's leg. All his fans were running on high, steam curling lazily from several armor seams, almost cross-opticked from sheer bliss. He let out a soft whistling sound as he slid straight into recharge.

The next thing he became aware of was his energy level pinging him incessantly for attention. Then a cube of energon was in front of him even before he managed to on-line his optics, the scent rich and enticing.

"Drink," Dai Atlas's voice was of command.

There was a scraping of metal on metal as still-not-quite-coordinated limbs all tried to move in different directions at once. Wing flailed, practically falling face-first into the energon. Latching onto the cube, he gulped down the energon, purring as the fuel hit his tanks.

He felt his creator's rumbling laugh of amusement, untempered by any annoyance as he drank and came to his senses. "Feeling better?"

"Much," the mechling chirped, putting down the empty cube. Sitting up, he leaned against the larger mech's warm frame. "What do we do next?"

The big mech rumbled in amusement at his creation's enthusiasm. "Next is hardline," he calmly unspooled a cable from a compartment in his lower chest. "It comes in two varieties. Pure energy exchange and memory replay. This is where interfacing can become dangerous." He locked optics with his creation. "Failure to maintain your firewalls and anti-viral protocols can result in processor shutdown, scrambled protocols or even having another take over your frame."

White armor clamped tight to Wing's frame at that, wings tucking in so tightly the joints creaked. The little white mech nodded seriously, wide-opticked as he digested that. "I'll be careful, carrier," he promised.

"Good," Dai Atlas relaxed and reached down to stroke his creation's helm as gold optics blinked at the cable, then Wing hunted out his own dataport, opening it. "Remember to use interfacing protocols rather than data or medical when giving access."

The connection was made smoothly and Dai Atlas pinged for access. It was much the way Redline did, and the access protocols were similar, but they were far more restrictive than medical, but not nearly as restrictive as data.

~Good,~ Dai Atlas rumbled between them silently. ~Do you understand why this can be so dangerous if your defenses are not up to spec?~

Wing chirred softly, cautiously exploring this new connection. ~I understand, carrier,~ he answered, nodding. Shifting, he leaned against Dai Atlas' torso, careful not to get anything caught in the cable.

~Good. Would you like to share a memory first, or experience pure energy?~ Dai Atlas curled a hand around his back, stroking gently.

~Memory first,~ the jetling chirped in reply. His wings twitched against Dai Atlas' hand. ~If we did the energy first I doubt I'd be coherent enough for the memory afterward.~

The giant laughed easily, amusement flooding the hardline. ~I'd make sure you recovered first,~ he promised. ~Now any memory will do, however the more intense the memory the easier it is to use this way. While interfacing is an obvious choice than many young mecha use, the real joy of doing a memory interface is in sharing the purity of other emotions and experiences. They do not even need to be ones the other mech shares, though that is also helpful. What kind of memory would you have me share with you? Anything in my life.~

A soft hum escaped Wing as the jetling contemplated that. There was much about his creator's life that he was curious about, but he was also aware that the older mech did not like talking about what he had been before becoming a Knight, and Wing had always respected that. ~Flying,~ he decided finally, twitching and flaring his own short wings. ~Show me flying, dancing in the air.~

There was a low, understanding chuckle and then Wing's awareness was of _being_ Dai Atlas. Young, strong, elated and so very full of his own sense of invulnerability. At his side flew a purple and silver jet, another giant, and there was a sense of a deep connection between them as the wind whipped around them in a fury.

Gold optics widened, short wings flaring and fluttering unnoticed. He could _feel_ the wind screaming across his control surfaces and fins, as if the storm was howling outrage that these puny metallic upstarts dared to challenge its power. Wing's hands tightened on blue armor, completely enthralled by the shared experience, by the sight of a sky he'd never seen and the strange mech who meant so much to his creator.

Winds buffeted them, pushing this way and that, and Wing was caught up in just how much his carrier was _thrilled_ by this. The joy was pure, unhampered by duty, loss or age. In this moment, Dai Atlas was just as enthralled by challenging the storm's might as Wing was in witnessing it. The big purple and silver jet was always at his side, a comfort and support that Dai Atlas didn't have to think about, worry about. Titanium was simply there, as he had always been.

As immersed as he was, Wing barely even registered how different their frames were. Dai Atlas was built heavy and powerful, intended to take a beating and keep flying. Wing was nearly his polar opposite physically, and yet in this memory Wing understood fully where his love of experiencing the new, of challenging limits and of _flight_ came from. It wasn't just frame coding. It was very much a part of his carrier that time and duty had beaten into submission.

The feel of the winds tearing at his wings and plating made another soft sound escape Wing, even though he knew the sensations weren't _his_. Charge was building, fueled by the sheer unparalleled joy of challenging the storm and the feel of the wind battering at them, trying to force them to yield. The spark-deep certainty that he was strong enough, good enough, to fly through this.

A heavy wind sheer slammed down from above, dropping him a thousand lengths before he powered out of it. The rush of knowing that blast could have slammed him into the ground, crushing armor and breaking wings was dizzying. Knowing he beat it was even more. Engines roared at full power, driving him upward to flash by his mentor and into the very core of the storm where winds came from every direction, swirling and raging.

Wing keened, caught up in that exhilaration, to feel the storm roaring at him to submit and his refusal to do so, his creator's determination to conquer the winds. Winds howled and shrieked, tearing at armor plates and wings and fins, and the heavy charge in the air tingled along thick plating. White armor fluffed out as Wing chirred again, his optics flaring nearly white. He was past thinking, much as his creator had been in the storm. There was only his powerful frame, his will and the winds.

It was glorious like nothing Wing had experienced. A thrill and the thrall of so much raw power, the fierceness on both sides. The triumph as the winds began to calm, caressing armor rather than tearing at it.

The mechling jet was only distantly aware of his carrier's groan of pleasure until the rush of energy crackled into his frame from where they touched and the hardline.

Wing keened as charge crackled through his frame, his wings flared out and twitching, wanting to feel those wild winds failing to subdue him even though he knew he was not built for that kind of flying. He pressed his cheek against Dai Atlas' chestplate, clinging to his creator's armor as overload swept through them both. He'd seen his creators interface, been close enough to feel the tingle of an overload his frame did not quite recognize as pleasure, even felt the overload as it crackled through Axe's frame along with his when the big mech was inside him, but it was never like this. Never before had the pleasure crackling across another frame heightened his own so clearly.

Both their frames were working hard to push heat from their frames as they relaxed.

~It was an amazing flight,~ Dai Atlas rumbled as his processors settled back into thinking mode.

~Indeed,~ Wing replied, a little fuzzily. His wings twitched a couple of times before sloppily folding to his back again. ~The purple mech with you... Was that your creator?~

~My mentor. I was sparked for the military in my adult frame,~ Dai Atlas answered honestly. ~Titanium was assigned to train me to be a command officer. He became much more over the vorns.~

The little white jet chirred softly. ~He did good.~ Wing snuggled closer, optics dimming slightly.

~Recharge my creation,~ Dai Atlas smiled. ~Just remember, always unplug first,~ he suited action to instruction.

Wing trilled acknowledgement, crawling fully into Dai Atlas' lap and curling up there. Fully enveloped in the larger mech's field, the white mech slid into recharge.

* * *

Dai Atlas was absent when Wing began to rouse next. A confused chirr rose from the uncurling ball of jet on the berth. He was sure he'd gone into recharge on his carrier's lap. Lifting his helm, he looked around blearily. His audials picked up the washrack running before he saw the small billow of steam creeping into the room from it. Then he heard his creators' murmurs of pleasure.

Creators located, Wing relaxed, his armor settling back into place. Finding one of the large pillows scattered randomly across the berth, he curled up on it, content to wait for Dai Atlas to reappear.

"You recovered quickly," the giant commented as he stepped into the room and noted Wing's optics were on. "Energon?"

"Yes, please," Wing chirruped in response, sitting up. He indulged in a stretch, fluffing and resettling armor and wings, then shifted closer to his carrier as Dai Atlas sat down and offered him a cube.

"What are the hazards and precautions of hardline interfacing?" Dai Atlas asked as he watched Wing refuel.

"Always keep your firewalls and anti-virus programs updated, or the results could be scrambled protocols, processor shutdown, or hacking. Always give access through the correct protocols for what you intend to do for the same reason," Wing replied between gulps. He climbed back into Dai Atlas' lap, leaning against blue armor while he finished his cube.

"Good," Dai Atlas relaxed, honestly grateful his creation had absorbed the lesson. "With an energy hardline, the idea is to either pulse enough energy over the line to push your lover into an overload, or to modulate the frequency of the pulses to match the sparkpulse of your lover. Most will use a combination. The first is generally easier, but the second brings a better overload. However, your spark and systems do not produce enough energy to overload a mech of my size, so keep that in mind as well. Sometimes the best answer is to allow a much larger mech to overload you, so they will overload with the feedback."

Wing hummed, nodding as he put the cube aside, tagging the lesson as important and shunting it to permanent memory. "Going to take some practice."

"All skills do," Dai Atlas chuckled and stroked his creation's back, content to sit with Wing in his lap. "Practice is more enjoyable in this than most skills." He opened the interface port he'd used before, but brushed his fingers over Wing's panel.

The panel obligingly slid open, exposing the little jet's dataport. Wing leaned into his carrier's touch, purring contentedly, fiddling with his own hardline cable. Dai Atlas waited patiently, his field calm and supportive until Wing managed to plug in. He went through the process to allow him suitable access slowly so Wing could get used to each step from the other side.

Only when they were fully peripheral to each other did Dai Atlas begin. ~Can you feel my spark-frequency?~

~I'm not sure,~ Wing admitted after a couple kliks of trying. He was completely new at this and had a lot to learn. He watched carefully as his carrier directed him to one part of the data stream that contained his system information.

~It will always be there,~ Dai Atlas told him. ~There are other ways to tell, however with a consensual lover you can always check that data point.~

Wing peered at the indicated data point, making note of it. ~I think I get it now... Finding it, at least.~

~Good. Try to modulate some energy to that frequency and send it to me,~ Dai Atlas instructed gently, leaning sideways against his mate as Axe settled on the berth with them.

The white mech chirped a greeting to his sire, then scrunched up his face in concentration as he tried to do as instructed. He wasn't quite sure he was doing it properly, but he was trying.

A low moan rewarded his effort with a flare of pleasure through Dai Atlas' field. ~Yes, that's close. Again.~

Humming softly, Wing gave it another try, trying to modulate the energy closer to the right frequency. He fumbled a couple of times before managing to send another energy pulse. Dai Atlas' frame arched sharply with a deep, rumbling moan. Pleasure and energy washed back into Wing across the hardline and their fields. Wing jumped, almost pulling out the hardline cable, but his grip on blue armor kept him from actually falling over backward. He stared wide-eyed at his carrier, then almost melted from what he was receiving through the hardline. Apparently he'd gotten the modulation close to the right frequency that time.

~Yes,~ Dai Atlas shivered slightly with the next burst, then replied with a perfectly modulated burst of his own, flooding Wing's systems with energy that matched Wing's spark.

Wing's whole frame stiffened, wings twitching rapidly, a keen escaping his vocalizer. He managed to push another wave of energy through the connection before collapsing into a puddle of jet in the bigger mech's lap. The next pulse made him keen in bliss.

Axe gave a low chuckle and reached in to stroke Wing's back while he turned his mate's helm for a kiss that sent a sharp thrill through Dai Atlas while they waited for the mechling to recover his senses enough to continue.

It took a couple kliks for Wing's optics to focus properly again. Sitting up, he shook his helm to clear his processor, looking up at his carrier. Experimentally he sent another pulse along the hardline and once more felt the much larger mech shudder and moan in bliss. Dai Atlas' field flared out, sharing his pleasure even as he surrendered all the more fully to his mate's kiss.

White armor rattled as Wing trembled, a mewling sound escaping. His charge was rising, driven higher by the feedback he was getting. He sent another pulse through, with a second close behind it and was rewarded by his carrier's frame arching sharply with a deep moaning shudder of pleasure. Dai Atlas retaliated in reflex by a heavy pulse of perfectly modulated energy, the quantity kept in check only by the hardline limits of Wing's frame.

Wing keened, his back arching, fingers clamping down on the edge of a blue armor plate. Charge arced over and under his plating, curling along the lengths of his wings and dancing between the tips of his audial fins. He was distantly aware of the frustrated shuddering moan above him that quickly morphed into something far more intense, but he was too far gone in his own bliss and loss of frame awareness to care.

It felt so _good_. Would others feel this good? He'd always loved the stories of a true love, what he thought he saw in his creators. Two mecha that adored each other, strengthened each other even when they fought.

How hard was that to find?

The random questions with no answers flowed through the periphery of Wing's awareness even as he felt the giant he was laying on roar and the intense crackle of energy between their plating. A second screaming roar of ecstasy quickly followed.

Another keen burst from Wing's vocalizer as feedback flooded through the connection, sending him into a second overload. His grip was almost tight enough to dent the thick armor plates he was clinging to as he bucked and twitched against Dai Atlas' frame. Gold optics flared almost white. Then Wing went completely limp, sliding down his carrier's armor to an unconscious puddle in his lap.

* * *

It took joors for Wing to so much as twitch. A brief stirring of his wingtips before he started to move signaled his return to awareness. The little white mechling's movements were more than a little uncoordinated at first as he booted back up, lifting his helm to look around. The teek of energy near his helm got him to turn towards the cube.

"Apparently you overloaded _hard_ ," Dai Atlas chuckled. "Drink. We actually have some talking to do before the next round."

Wing was on the energon cube like a starving cyber-wolf on a wounded robo-deer. Sitting up, he gulped it down as quickly as he could without clogging his intake or having his fuel tanks backing up. Once he'd finished the cube, he put it down, turning his attention to his carrier.

"Talk?" he echoed, flaring his audial fins curiously.

"Yes. Spark play is next." Dai Atlas was serious as he offered a second cube. "Exposing your spark, even to a mecha you trust, is an act of faith in and of itself. Trust that they will not harm you when even weak mecha can crush your chamber with a hand." He paused for that to sink in.

The little jetling accepted the second cube, managing to down this one more slowly. Hearing that, he was about to ask a question when the last part of Dai Atlas' statement registered, and white armor clamped tight to his frame.

"At least you have some sense of self-preservation then," Dai Atlas hummed in approval. "Yes, a spark chamber is that easy to damage. There is also a risk of kindling with every merge. Spark bonds can form. These are existence-altering events."

The cube of energon in Wing's hands had been all but forgotten. All his attention was on his carrier. Wide golden optics were fixed on the much larger mech, his audial fins flared to make sure he caught every word.

"It is why you should choose who you merge with carefully. I do not advise holding out for a true love or any such thing, but if you are going to risk creating a newspark, make sure it is someone you like well enough to raise that creation with. Creators and siblings are safe because our sparks recognize that the frequencies are too similar to make for a strong creation. I can't say I've ever completely understood, but even Redline believes it. It is why your first merge, likely your first several, will be with close kin. Until you are reasonably confident that you can keep your wits about you enough to avoid accidents, it should be among those who are safe."

Wing's optics were still almost perfectly round as he digested this, turning it over in his processor. Slowly, he nodded, looking up into Dai Atlas' red optics. "I'll be careful," he promised.

Dai Atlas nodded. "The most important thing to remember is to have it set in your processors that you do not wish to kindle. You do not wish to bond. It is extremely difficult for either to happen without some level of consent, even if it not conscious consent."

"I have no intention of bonding before I'm ready," Wing replied, sidling closer. "I'll be very careful. I promise."

"Good," Dai Atlas reached out to stroke his back. "Do you still wish to merge with me now?" he asked gently.

Gulping down the last of his energon and putting the cube aside, Wing nodded gamely. "I'm ready."

"Then come here," Dai Atlas laid on his berth and patted his broad chest plates. "It is best to have a small charge going before you attempt a merge."

Nodding, the white mech climbed up onto his creator's chest, purring as he settled into place. Dark palms lightly kneaded the thick blue armor and giant white hands slid along Wing's white back panels and wings, teasing, playful, arousing without the intent to overload.

"Has anyone caught your optic yet?" Dai Atlas asked, rumbling his enjoyment of the touching.

The purring slowed briefly as Wing processed the question. "Caught my optic for what?"

"Your first interfacing playmate outside your kin," Dai Atlas rumbled, his fingers playing along wing surfaces and the strong backstrut of a stunt flier.

Wing arched back and wings into the stroking, purring his enjoyment. "I don't have my optic on anyone in particular. But I'm sure I'll have my pick of half the Citadel when word gets out I'm available."

Dai Atlas rumbled in amusement. "Your pick, and no small amount of expectation that you'll pick them all eventually." He brought a hand around to stroke down Wing's chest seam. "I'm sure most of the young stunt frames you fly with outside the Citadel will be looking for your attention too. It's a time of great fun for most mechlings."

"Sounds like something to look forward to, as well as something to be careful about." He leaned into the touch on his chest as his chestplates unlocked, completely trusting his carrier. Under him he felt the larger and much, much heavier latches on Dai Atlas's armor unlock. The gears and hydraulics began to move the massive, thick plates out of the way, each of the three layers weighing as much as Wing did.

Eventually he caught a glimpse of dark red light escaping from deep inside that frame. He paused, staring at that pulsing, shining red light. That was the spark that had nurtured him until his own had been mature enough to support itself, then until the orn he had finally crawled out of the big mech's frame. His purr increasing in intensity, he let his own chest armor part slightly, warm gold light showing through the seams.

"You always did take after your sire in so many ways," Dai Atlas murmured, his harmonics of reverence, a little bit of awe and deep devotion. Giant fingers stroked along the edge of armor plates, watching as the golden glow brightened with their parting and how the light played off his white fingers. "Such a beautiful, bright spark."

"Yours is so warm," Wing purred, leaning down to rub his cheek against his carrier's chest armor. His own armor pulled fully out of the way, revealing his bright gold spark, pulsing like a star inside its casing.

"Old and muted," Dai Atlas said without any rancor. "It was once a supernova with every pulse. Now it warms and guards what I hold dear."

The little jet chirred, nuzzling against the larger mech. The red glow of Dai Atlas' spark gleamed off his white plating as Wing paused to admire the spark that had created his, one hand cautiously lifting toward it before hesitating.

"You may," the giant rumbled. "Touching the chamber gently can be very pleasurable."

Wing nodded, carefully reaching out to very, very gently brush his fingers against the casing. A chirr of wonder escaped at the warmth of the crystal, the feel of energy zapping at his fingertips. As threads of red energy followed his fingertips across the crystal surface, the jetling couldn't help but let out a soft giggle even as his carrier moaned and arched slightly, pressing into the touch. With so little between Wing and the dark red spark, Dai Atlas's field was a powerful force enveloping Wing's circuits on every level. Even his spark could feel it.

Pleasure. Love. Desire. _Age_. Loss. Joy. Fierce protectiveness. It all wrapped around Wing, through him, caressed his spark now that there was so little between them.

A soft croon answered the moan as Wing stroked his carrier's spark casing. His field pulsed against the older mech's, conveying all of the love and trust he felt for his creator. His own spark was flaring and pulsing inside its casing, a shining network of gold threads probing at all the seams for a way out.

With a soft smile Dai Atlas opened his chamber, offering Wing a chance to touch another spark for the first time. If Wing's optics widened any further they'd be in danger of either shattering or popping out. He stared down into his carrier's chest as threads of glowing deep red brushed against his fingers. Slowly, very cautiously, he inched his hand forward.

Dai Atlas's vents hitched in pleasure and he moaned softly. "You won't hurt me," he encouraged. "I won't let anything bad happen."

Wing's wings almost vibrated nervously, but he inched his hand forward again, brushing his fingertips against the deep red spark's corona. He let out a soft purring moan as energy ran up along his arm, sending tingles all through his frame. Under him Dai Atlas shuddered as pleasure flooded his field and Wing felt a sense of the other creep into his exposed spark.

Optics off, mouth open and vents wide, Dai Atlas struggled to be still and allow his creation to explore with the reminder that this was for Wing to learn in safety.

The mechling took in his creator's reaction with curious interest, continuing to stroke his fingers over the bigger mech's spark's corona. Red energy swirled around black digits, threads curling around his fingers and over his palm. Curious, Wing leaned down, the red light reflecting off his plating and optics.

The zap of the first tendrils finding each other dragged a moan of bliss from them both, as well as a sound of shock from Wing as he felt his creator's presence directly in his spark for the first time since he'd separated.

Dai Atlas's hands curled against the padding of his berth as he fought to remain still and let Wing move at his own pace.

The intensity of the connection made Wing tremble from helm to pedes, his armor rattling softly against Dai Atlas'. More threads reached out from his spark, stretching down to the deep red one so close to it. It had been so long since he'd felt this intense connection to his carrier, and some part of Wing's processor was aware of how much he'd missed it. Slowly, Wing brought his own spark closer to that great red one.

~Yes,~ Dai Atlas was there, in his spark, just like when Wing relied completely on the giant for his existence. ~I missed this, even if I miss nothing else of being a carrier.~

Wing had to chuckle a bit at that. ~I think you were a great carrier, but then, I was inside your armor and missed seeing you terrorizing the rest of the Citadel.~

Memories flickered towards Wing of that time, mostly those passed on by Axe. They were laced with the big mech's humor at watching others try to cope with an aspect of his mate that he knew well, but the other Knights had never encountered. Somewhere was the comment that if Dai Atlas was so bent out of shape with such a small sparkling, what he'd be like if he had one big enough to really ground him and keep him from sparring.

A memory of Wing's leaked back through the connection, of being cradled in comforting warmth and complete safety. The jetling purred, shifting to rub his cheek against his carrier's armor, warm golden optics lifting to meet red.

~Their terror was because I am so protective of you,~ Dai Atlas murmured, shying away from memories it was linked to, shielding his innocent creation from some of the truths of his long existence. ~To finally give life instead of taking it....~

~Worth it even if carrying makes you a Pit demon, hm?~ Love flowed back through the connection, wrapping around Dai Atlas' spark.

~Yes,~ the word-glyph was warm, full of longing for the feeling of nurturing a new life, of giving to the universe instead of taking. ~That it was with Axe was all the sweeter. We tried for nearly three vorns to kindle you. That's a very long time,~ he murmured, his hands coming up to stroke Wing's back. ~You were so small, so vulnerable. Even Redline was worried for a while. But you formed a strong spark and had me build a good frame. Just so tiny.~

Small white wings leaned into the stroking. ~Nothing wrong with being small. For one thing, it's easier to find furniture to fit me.~ The small mech's grin was wide and bright. He shifted his position on Dai Atlas' frame, the edge of his spark's corona brushing against the red spark's. The deeper connection sent a rush of heat into both their frames.

~Nothing wrong, but unusual with creators as large as we are,~ Dai Atlas said as he focused on the merge and not sinking into the pleasure too quickly. ~Most creations will be of similar size to their carrier.~

~I wonder what happened, then, to cause me to be so small,~ Wing mused, though his choice of glyphs indicated that it didn't worry him too much. He was happy as he was. Being so small, he was the perfect size to glomp onto his creators and catch rides on their shoulders, or just latch on and cling.

~Likely the same thing that made it so difficult to kindle in the first place,~ Dai Atlas's thoughts were equally smooth. ~Axe was designed from the chamber out to never create. Redline did a lot of work to make his systems more normal and get the protocols to take, but even he could only do so much. You're small because it was the most energy he could give up.~

Wing chirred softly. ~I'm glad to exist, and I'm glad to be yours.~

~As we are glad to have created you,~ he murmured, Axe's agreement coming over the bond with his mate to their creation.

The jet purred to both of them, his spark carefully easing closer to Dai Atlas', their coronas merging slowly. The conversation of word-thoughts over, Dai Atlas gently guided his creation in the best speed and approach to a merge. A gradual mingling of energy that became more and more intense as their cores drew closer. When each core was straining to touch, Dai Atlas closed his hands on Wing's shoulders to hold him still. The pleasure only took nanokliks from that point to build until it washed them both away with a sense of unity, wholeness and peace that was very familiar to the giant and so very new to his creation.

The sound Wing made was part keen, part moan, and entirely unnoticed by either. His frame stiffened, joints locking up from the charge that raced along his sensor net, wings vibrating so rapidly they were making a humming sound as they twitched back and forth. A moment later he was glad of his carrier's grip on his shoulders as his frame went completely limp.

Though it was all over with in less than a half klik from the first touch of coronas to when their sparks pulled back and armor began close. The entire time Dai Atlas carefully held his creation up, ensuring that the automatic systems moved smoothly. In time and with experience Wing would reflexively move to make the processes go smoothly. It didn't always work out that way the first few times.

The little white jet was completely limp in Dai Atlas' hands. His optics were on, indicating he was aware, but the glazed look hinted that he was making an attempt to scrape together some processor power. A moment later he was purring, though it seemed more automatic than deliberate as he was gently lowered to rest on now closed black chest plates. This close, they both still felt the resonance created by the merge and the peace of that merge.

**Author's Note:**

> Fandom: Transformers IDW Knights of Light  
> Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
> Pairings: Axe/Dai Atlas, Axe/Wing, Dai Altas/Wing  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Codes: Tactile, Sticky, PnP, Field, Spark, First Times, Size Kink, Safe Sex Talk, Knights of Light, Parent/child Incest
> 
> Summary: 1 new mechling. 2 creators. 3 very long orns. 7 methods of interface.
> 
> Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page <http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html>. We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read. 
> 
> Notes: So, right. When you like using 7 of the (at least) 12 interfacing methods you think Cybertronians use, it makes for a bloody long 'first time' event. And we only covered the 7 I like.
> 
> Prompt:  
> From <http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=12889600#t12889600>
> 
> So. in my brain!canon for this; it is encouraged Nay! expected that the person who teaches you interfacing/first lover you take is a close family member. Close as in parents, older sibling or maybe aunt or uncle. NOT a cousin.
> 
> This practice is for a good reason, mainly because family can't reproduce with family. it is literally impossible. the spark codes (or CNA whichever) are too similar and simply don't register as possible sparking material (hence why no cousins, their codes would be too different. Aunt/Uncle is pushing it abit)and this is very good coz teen pregnancy is a whole lot riskier for Cybertronians.
> 
> Another reason is because of love and trust. you love your family (not necessarily romantic love) and can trust them to make it a good first time for you. ideally anyway.
> 
> So. yeah. in summery: write me someone's fluffy first time with family member(s?) teaching them what can go where and what does what.
> 
> Preferred interface method is combo sticky(valve & spike)/ spark merge
> 
> Go for the Bonus Round!(i will love you forever and ever if you do)  
> ~the 'safe interfacing' talk while going at it ie. 'now remember to keep your firewalls current and never spark merge with one night stands! you don't know where they've been!' sort of thing  
> ~threesome with parents  
> ^ with added cooing over how grown up they're sparkling is now.
> 
> Oooooh i'm going to the ~special~ hell for this. Anyone want to join me? XD


End file.
